Kane (9 page)

“Actually, it's Miss Regina I came to see.” Kane interjected irony into that title of respect as he looked straight at her for the first time.

“Yes?” Her smile felt pasted on.

“I'm interested in hearing what your connection might be with a notorious tabloid reporter named Dudley Slater.”

Her reaction to the accusation she heard in his voice was instant and instinctive. “I don't know what you mean.”

“No? You've never heard of him?”

“Afraid not. What makes you think I might have?”

“He's camped outside your door, for one thing.”

Kane was talking about the man in the car across the street from the motel. She shook back her hair. “Really?”

He took a couple of folded pages from his shirt pocket and unfolded them, then tossed them over in front of her. “That's what he looks like, and also his rap sheet.”

She glanced at the fax page, which showed a blurred photograph of a man with a thin face, sharp nose, and narrow, haggard eyes. After a moment, she looked up at Kane again. His gaze bored into hers. She blinked quickly in reflex action, though she recognized that was a mistake. With as much composure as she could
manage, she said, “I saw this man across from the motel, I think, but he could be interested in anyone.”

“He could, but I don't think he is.” Kane's words were grim, though his attention seemed to wander an instant to where sunlight shafting through the window was warming the top of her head.

“Are you suggesting he's there because of me?”

His eyes narrowed at the amusement in her voice. “It crossed my mind.”

Lewis Crompton cleared his throat with a loud rasp, a warning, apparently, for the accusation in his grandson's tone. He asked, “How did you find out about this reporter?”

“I noticed him yesterday and had Roan run a make on the rental car. The Taurus was picked up at the airport in Baton Rouge. Slater has a record a mile long for harassment, assault, breaking and entering, not to mention enough parking tickets to paper several rooms.”

Breaking and entering.
Regina turned those words over in her mind in dismay. At the same time, she watched the two men with care. If either of them had set this Dudley Slater to watch her, then the other didn't know about it. But she didn't think they were involved. No one could be that good at faking either the concern of Mr. Lewis or the grim effort to get to the bottom of the business that was plain in Kane's face. It was not a pleasant discovery.

“Who,” she asked in clipped tones, “might Roan be, and just what is his part in this?”

“Sheriff Roan Benedict,” Mr. Lewis answered in polite explanation. “He's the law here in Tunica Parish.” Turning back to Kane, he went on, “Why would
this Slater bother with Miss Regina? Why isn't he after me? Or you, for that matter?”

Kane looked at Regina, his gaze unyielding. “That's what I'm trying to find out.”

“Maybe he thinks I'm a star witness,” she quipped with more bravado than she felt.

“Could be,” Kane allowed with a curt nod. “The only question is whether for the plaintiff or the defendant.”

She frowned as anger for his unending suspicion flowed through her. “Why would you even think such a thing?”

“I don't know what to think. I'm listening if you'd like to tell me anything.”

The force of his will was like a powerful magnet. The impulse to tell him whatever he wanted to know shivered along her nerves. It was compounded, she thought, of fear that he could see through her and an insistent need to gain his approval, to see him smile at her as he did at others. If this was what it was like to face him from the witness stand, then she pitied anyone who wound up there.

Moistening her lips, she said, “You'll have to excuse me. I can't help you.”

He didn't believe her; she could see it in his face. There was nothing she could do to prevent that. She didn't need this, couldn't stand it just now. More than that, she had a strong urge to get back to the motel, check her room and the things she had left there.

“Thank you for the breakfast,” she said, summoning a smile for her host as she rose to her feet. “I'm sure you two have business to discuss, so I'll leave
you to it. Perhaps you'll give me a call when you've made your decision?”

“I'll do that,” Mr. Lewis said genially, rising to his feet and taking the hand she offered. “This has been a very great pleasure.”

She was warmed by his words even as she wondered if they were mere politeness. “For me, also,” she said, and meant it. She turned to Kane who was standing, as well. She felt like striding off without a word to him, but that would be too pointed after her cordial farewell to his grandfather.

Before she could speak, he said, “I'll see you to your car.”

She could hardly object without adding to his suspicion. “If you like.”

He indicated that she should precede him, then followed her from the room. She was acutely aware of him behind her, so much so that it was difficult to walk naturally. As she stepped past him onto the front porch, he said, “You aren't carrying jewel cases, so I'm assuming you still don't have the collection.”

“Your grandfather decided to give you another chance at it.”

“Did he now?” There was an intrigued note in his voice. Closing the door behind him, he walked beside her across the porch and down the steps.

“That was my impression. I expect he'll get around to talking to you about it soon, since he asked me to stay on a couple of days.”

“Crafty old devil,” he muttered, staring straight ahead.

“What?” She flung a glance at his set face.

“Never mind. It looks as if you'll be on hand for Luke's open house this weekend after all.”

“I suppose.” Her tone was not encouraging.

“I'll drive you, if you care to go. Before you say no, let me add that my only motive is hospitality. You're kicking your heels here because of Pops. The least we can do is provide a little entertainment.”

“That would certainly be considerate,” she said, “if I believed it.”

He stopped. “Are you calling me a liar?”

“Lawyers aren't exactly known for their ethics. Isn't bending the truth the name of the game?”

“Not for any I choose to play.”

She gave him a sardonic glance. “Of course not.”

“I mean it. I prefer the truth as a weapon.”

“And I'm supposed to accept that while you doubt every word that comes out of my mouth?”

“There's a difference,” he said, his eyes as hard as his voice was soft.

She stared at him. He meant he made a habit of stating facts, but knew she did not. Heat rose in her face as she exclaimed, “Of all the—”

“I guess this means you won't be going with me to Luke's after all?”

“I can find my own way, thank you very much.” With a scathing glance, she started again toward her car on the drive.

“Suit yourself.”

In a childish need to have the last word, she said over her shoulder, “I intend to.”

He returned no answer for long seconds. Then, just as she opened her car door, he said, “Regina?”

She stopped and looked back at him, caught by an undercurrent of concern in his voice.

“Watch out for Slater. He doesn't play by the rules.”

She had suspected as much. That didn't make his continued assumption that she had some connection to such a sleazy character any less irritating. Her gaze as lethal as she could make it, she said, “But you do, right?”

“Always.”

Strangely enough, she almost believed him. She looked away, then stepped into her car and slammed the door. The loud noise was satisfying. Still, she knew the last word hadn't been hers after all.

Regina's thoughts were chaotic as she drove back to the motel. Fine tremors ran through her hands. She didn't know why she let Kane Benedict get to her. Her defenses were many and well perfected against most people. She was a grown woman, not a teenager overwhelmed by hormones and a romantic imagination. She had seen handsome men before and had brushed off her share of those who assumed red hair equaled a passionate nature or who saw her disinterest as a challenge. They got nowhere against the barricade of her indifference.

She wasn't indifferent to Kane. He had pushed through her defenses at their first meeting, closing in before she was prepared. She felt exposed, emotionally vulnerable in a way she hadn't in years. It was disturbing on some level she preferred not to explore. It was also nerve-racking.

Back at the motel, everything in her room was exactly as she had left it. Nothing was gone, nothing out
of order. If Slater had been there, he was very good at what he did.

Not that there was anything for him, or anyone else, to find; she had seen to that. Regardless, she was outraged at the possibility of intrusion. Her personal privacy was important to her, and the thought of having it breached for no good reason was far too much like a violation to be tolerated.

What bothered her more than anything else, however, was the possibility that her cousin had not been aboveboard with her. She intended to get to the bottom of it.

Gervis should have been at his office since it was the middle of the morning. He wasn't, according to his secretary. Instead, he was at the apartment. That worried her even before he answered the phone.

“Gina, baby,” he said, his voice hard, “I hope you're calling with good news because I could sure use it.”

“I'm calling to find out what you think you're doing.”

“Me? I'm doing something? Hell, I'm not doing anything because I'm too busy fighting a lawsuit. Which you're supposed to be helping me with. If you've got nothing to report, why are you wasting my time?”

She would not let his irascible mood throw her. “I want to know why you lied to me about Dudley Slater.”

“Baby, baby, what do you take me for?”

“I'd be hard put to say right this minute,” she said as his abrupt change to a caressing tone rang alarm bells. “You told me you had nothing to do with the
man watching me, this Slater, yet you knew he was a reporter. Why is that?”

“Must have been a lucky guess. Gina, listen—”

“No, you listen. I've heard you talk about doing this to other people, but never dreamed you'd try it on me. Why? That's all I want to know, just why?”

He said nothing for a minute, then he asked, “They really made Slater as a reporter? Somebody down there is on to him?”

“You could say that,” she returned with irony.

His only answer was several short and pithy comments on the reporter's mentality and antecedents. They struck her as incredibly vulgar, not to mention lacking in imagination, when they would hardly have registered not so long ago. The change, she thought, was a direct result of not hearing such phrases in her presence over the past few days, something she'd hardly noticed until now.

“What is this all about, Gervis?” she demanded, cutting him short. “Don't you trust me?”

“It's not that, sweetheart. It's just that you're not exactly a pro, you know? I thought you needed backup.”

“A cheap reporter with a face like a weasel and a record to match is supposed to help? Give me a break!”

“All right, so I wasn't sure you had the guts for the deal, okay? You're great with people, they like you right off, whereas with me—but never mind that. You said yourself you were on shaky ground. You think you're tough, you talk tough, but you don't know how to take care of yourself. I got a right to worry about you, now don't I?”

“If you were really worried about me,” she said with sudden pain in her chest, “I wouldn't be here. I want you to call off Slater.”

He gave a long-suffering sigh. “I can't do that.”

“Can't or won't?” She held her voice steady with a valiant effort.

“I don't have the man on a leash. He's a newshound and he smells a story.”

“He's a cut below a paparazzo, a certifiable creep!”

“Be that as it may, he's arranged his own deal with his magazine, one that's got nothing to do with me and what I sent him to find out.”

She hesitated, thinking hard. “Are you saying…?”

“What, baby?”

She didn't answer. Abruptly, she couldn't speak at all as her concentration focused on something else entirely, a sound that she had been hearing all along. In the background, from the living room beyond the study, a television program was going. She recognized it without any trouble since it was the soundtrack of a cartoon movie she had heard a thousand times before.

Her cousin hated cartoons.

“Gervis,” she said, her voice taut, “who do you have there with you?”

“Now, Gina. It was supposed to be a surprise.”

“Is Stephan there?”

“It's just for a few days.”

“You took him out of school?” Her voice was rising, but she couldn't help it.

“Now, Gina, don't get all upset.”

The sharper her own words, the more soothing, al
most oily, her cousin's became. On the edge of panic, she demanded, “What are you doing with him?”

“He was missing his mama, so I brought him for a visit. Take it easy.”

“How can I take it easy? He has to have his medicine and have it on time. He shouldn't be upset, and you know he doesn't like Michael, won't take his medicine from him or from you.”

“It's fine. I've taken care of it, hired a nurse and everything.”

“Why?” she demanded with panic fluttering in her chest. “Why are you doing this?”

“For you, for Stephan. What else?”

“Let me talk to him.”

“I don't think that's a good idea. You'll upset him for nothing. Maybe next time, when you've got something to report.”

She didn't like what she heard in his voice, didn't like it at all. “What do you want from me?”